


Proper Management

by killalla



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killalla/pseuds/killalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finch takes a more 'hands-on' approach.  Post-Episode snippet for 2.15 "Booked Solid."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Management

When Finch emerged from his meeting, confident that the hotel would be hosting an excellent new world wine festival in the spring, he found that Reese was still at the bar. 

“Finch!” Reese’s smile was wide, relaxed, happy and slightly off-kilter. Correction: a slightly intoxicated Reese was still at the bar.

“Mr. Reese. I’d assumed you might have left by now." Finch checked his watch. Just over two hours. “And where is Ms. Morgan?” 

“Zoe had’ a leave. Potential client called - some kind of emergency uptown.” Luckily, Reese didn’t seem too impaired, although he was eliding his vowels, and his voice had deepened slightly, if that were possible.

“I see. “ Finch let out an annoyed huff, and muttered something under his breath that almost sounded like “Freelancers.” “Well, let’s go, then.” With determination, he grabbed Reese’s arm and began gently manhandling him towards the elevator. 

“What’re we – hey!” A few moments later they were in the speeding up to the penthouse floor. “I may not be safe to drive, but I can still get home.”

“Mr. Reese. I gave you that room key for a reason. It occurs to me now that I may have made some inaccurate assumptions, but never mind.” Finch gave a characteristic nod to the side. “Suffice to say, Mr. Reese, you have been “off your game” a little recently, and we need to correct that.” Being owner of the hotel meant having a master key, and *that* meant that the door could easily be opened one handed. 

The alcoholic fog was just starting to clear slightly as John Reese found himself in the palatial bedroom of the penthouse suite, being undressed impatient efficiency by his employer. “Um, Harold, you don’t need to …”

“Nonsense, Mr. Reese. Like the hotel, this is a situation that requires proper management, and in this case, that calls for my personal attention. Now, raise your arms.”

It was several hours before Reese regained enough coherence to reflect idly that if this was how Harold dealt with management issues, it was no wonder he’d ended up a billionaire who owned half of Manhattan.


End file.
